


Following the Fandom

by INeverHadMyInternetPhase



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, alternate first meeting, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8387377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeverHadMyInternetPhase/pseuds/INeverHadMyInternetPhase
Summary: Dan and Phil are the Youtubers we know and love, except for one thing - they’ve never met. That doesn’t stop the fanbase from shipping them, though, and eventually Phil gathers up the courage to message Dan





	

Phil’s brow furrowed as his phone went off _again._ The constant stream of notifications hadn’t relented once since he’d woken up and flicked his phone on, and he hadn’t even had a chance to get onto his home page to find the source of all the sudden attention before yet another notification turned up and exploded his phone all over again.

Phil nudged his bedsheets down from his shoulders and rolled onto his pillow, squinting at his bright phone screen. It was still ridiculously early in the morning, and yet the stream never ended. What had he even done to spark such a reaction? The last thing he’d done was tweet about an exciting-looking dog he’d seen walking passed his London flat, and he hadn’t uploaded a video since four days ago. His new footage was sitting on his laptop waiting to be edited – so _what_ had caused this sudden flood of notifications?

Phil scrolled through them and realised most seemed to be coming from Twitter – well, ok, maybe he’d do best to check there, then. He grappled with his phone until he managed to get onto his settings and turn off his notifications (and maybe he should think about making that permanent, with his YouTube channel close to 2 million subscribers, annoying streams of notifications were becoming a daily occurrence), sighing with relief when his phone calmed down enough for him to actually be able to use it. After waiting for his heart rate to slow back to normal, healthy levels, Phil settled himself more comfortably into his pillows, drew in a deep breath, and opened up Twitter.

His at replies were completely flooded. Phil read few a through with narrowed eyes, scrolling and scrolling until he got to the source. His heart sank when he saw the problem – the other person that all of these people were dragging into the conversation.

_Danisnotonfire._

That username was fast becoming the bane of Phil’s existence. The worst thing was, Phil didn’t even _know_ the guy. He hadn’t been aware of him until his audience suddenly started screaming about him in the comments of his videos, and Phil had been tagged in several posts with him on Twitter. Apparently, the guy was another YouTuber. Phil had looked him up after his name started cropping up among his fans, and it was then that he’d found out the source of all the hype.

Danisnotonfire, or Dan Howell, was a fellow vlogger/sketch comedian/awkward tall British man who had joined YouTube in 2009, three years later than Phil. He’d made quite a following for himself, actually having more subscribers than Phil (not that Phil was bitter about that), and his target audience seemed to be young school and university students. His videos were a mix of friendly, helpful advice, and humorous anecdotes about Dan’s apparently awkward life. Phil had watched a couple of videos, and then got hooked and gone through and watched them all. The guy had an easy charm about him. His good looks helped, too. It was easy enough to see where his fanbase came from, although there was no obvious link to Phil yet. Why were his fans so keen on drawing them together, then?

It was when Phil clicked on Dan Howell’s _Draw My Life_ video that everything fell into place.

Dan’s artistic skills left a lot to be desired (although, Phil had to begrudgingly admit that they were better than his – his own _Draw My Life_ had taken far too long due to him constantly switching colours and having to erase his terrible mistakes). When Dan got onto telling the story of how he started YouTube, he mentioned a few channels that had inspired him, and top of the list was AmazingPhil.

Phil was not too proud to admit that he glowed a little at the compliment. Dan in the video sounded bashful when he mentioned how he’d watched AmazingPhil’s videos, stalked him relentlessly on Twitter, although he’d never been brave enough to share his true name with Phil. Although Phil never noticed him, Dan explained how Phil’s unique editing style had inspired him to pick up his own camera. At the end, Dan even went so far as to dedicate the video to Phil, without whom Dan’s channel would never have existed.

Phil had been enamoured a little by the video, and was on the verge of messaging Dan when he made the mistake of hunting through the comments. It seemed he and Dan shared a lot of fanbase, as the comments were full of excited typing about him.

_‘DAN, DO YOU KNOW PHIL?!?!’_

_‘Awwww it’s so cute that you dedicated this to AmazingPhil!! He inspires so many of us ^_^’_

_‘ngl I totally ship you and Phil.’_

And there, in the last comment, began the bane of Phil’s existence.

The shipping was uncontrollable. You see, their audience had apparently taken Dan’s frank, and rather cute, admission of his admiration for Phil to mean that he had some sort of _crush._ And then they’d taken it upon themselves to let Phil know just what a good idea they thought that was.

They even had a ship name – _phan_ – and the tags on both Twitter and tumblr were flooded with new content every single day. Things were reaching the point where Phil couldn’t tweet without getting hit with any number of replies tagging Dan, and vice versa. The worst thing was, Phil still hadn’t even _spoken_ to the guy. He had no idea who this Dan Howell actually was, past his videos and his Twitter account. Phil had been on the verge of following him any number of times, but he always chickened out before pressing that fateful black button. (Yes, Dan’s Twitter theme was black – apparently, he had a thing for monochrome. Personally, Phil thought he could do with a bit of colour in his life).

Phil sighed, sitting up a little in his bed and scrolling through his tweets. The newest craze seemed to have come from Dan, so Phil searched for his profile and scrolled through the familiar black timeline. And there it was – a tweet from yesterday.

_@danisnotonfire:_ just got chased by a giant golden retriever seriously it could have been a lion in disguise what

_@phanforlife:_ @danisnotonfire maybe it was @amazingphil!!!

And from there, the usual endless flood of replies had formed. Phil dared to check tumblr, too, and – yep – there was already fanart of him as a giant, fluffy dog chasing a scared-looking Dan down the street.

Well, that was one of the depictions. There were also several drawings of Dan cuddling the Phil-dog, along with the usual less-than-safe-for-work art that flooded the tumblr tags of the two of them.

Phil only lasted a few moments before he slammed down the lid of his laptop, his face feeling hot. Somewhere in there was the line of violation, and Phil wanted to steer well clear of it. He didn’t _know_ Dan Howell. It was the weirdest thing he’d ever experienced to see art of himself and a guy he’d never even met in such an intimate position.

Not that he’d necessarily be against seeing Dan like that.

Phil pushed that thought far back into the dim reaches of his brain where it belonged, and dragged himself out of bed to begin his day.

Phil actually managed to be fairly productive. He finished editing his most recent video ready for uploading that evening, sent off a few very important emails, replied to a text from PJ saying that yes he was going to the YouTube meeting happening in London next week, and cooked himself a fairly-healthy dinner to make up for his pancake breakfast. It wasn’t until he settled down in front of the TV with his laptop open for an evening of rest that he checked his notifications again.

Phil’s new video was doing well, sitting at a comfortable number of views with a generous flood of comments and tweets gracing his accounts. Phil spent a while casually scrolling through some with a smile, replying to some of the nicer or more inventive ones. It didn’t take long for Dan’s username to crop up among his followers, either – much of Phil’s audience had dedicated themselves to telling Dan whenever Phil uploaded, and vice versa. It was rare for either of them to reply, though, and they had never directly at-replied each other.

Phil worried his lower lip, hovering over Dan’s username. It wouldn’t be difficult to send a message, would it? He wouldn’t even have to do it publicly. If nothing else, Phil sort of wanted to apologise for the insistence of his audience. It must annoy Dan, surely, to constantly be dragged into conversations that had nothing to do with him.

Phil had been in this position so many times before – so close to following Dan, to messaging him. But he was always worried he would be unwelcome. After all, if Dan _was_ irritated by Phil’s audience constantly hounding him, then having Phil himself contact him wouldn’t do much good, would it?

Phil was about to close off Dan’s profile when suddenly, a new tweet from Dan himself came through.

_@danisnotonfire:_ @amazingphil’s new video is actually pretty awesome thanks guys

Phil almost dropped his laptop. This was the first time _ever_ there had been actual direct contact between the two of them online – at least, as far as Phil was aware. Their audience immediately picked up on this, as Phil was suddenly flooded with an influx of at replies telling him that Dan liked his new video. There were the usual calls about phan, too, with some even questioning whether or not this meant phan was canon.

Phil shook his head. He still hadn’t ever spoken to Dan, but from this tweet, Phil was beginning to wonder if maybe Dan actually didn’t hate him? Maybe he didn’t resent the constant attention and pressure they both got from their mostly shared audience. Maybe he wouldn’t laugh in Phil’s face if they ever talked.

So Phil gathered up the last vestiges of his courage, clicked back onto Dan’s profile, and followed him.

He hovered over Dan’s DM box, slightly surprised to see that the other YouTuber was in fact already following him. When had that happened? And yet, Phil was still scared of sending a message. The Dan that appeared in videos was confident, and funny, and interesting, what on earth would he want to do with Phil? He may have been a fan, but that was years ago. Dan had long since surpassed Phil in terms of the YouTube world. Phil didn’t mind, either – he liked his own corner of the internet, with his audience who loved unconditionally. He liked spreading his positivity and weirdness. How did that fit in with Dan’s world?

But Dan _had_ directly tweeted him.

Perhaps a public message would be safer first.

Phil closed out of DMs and instead pulled up Dan’s tweet, spending several minutes thinking over the best way to reply.

_@amazingphil:_ @danisnotonfire thanks!! Thrilled you liked it, have a cactus of happiness (emoji)

Predictably, the response to that tweet was a little overwhelming. But the only reply that caught Phil’s eye was from Dan himself.

_@danisnotonfire:_ @amazingphil aw thanks i’ll cherish the cactus forever

Phil grinned, startled. He never would have expected smooth, cool Dan Howell to respond to a cactus emoji in such a fond fashion. It gave Phil the final push he needed to gather his courage and send Dan a DM.

**Phil Lester:** Please do cherish the cactus ^_^ and thanks for watching my video! Sorry for my audience. They’re a bit … enthusiastic. Hope it doesn’t bother you

Phil sent the message with nerves jostling around inside his stomach. He wasn’t used to such a sudden escalation in his relationship with anyone, let alone a YouTuber he’d been watching for several years. He’d admired Dan Howell’s career from afar, quietly cheering him on whenever he made a step forward in the world. Phil felt an odd sense of pride, even though he had no right to. But it was nice to think that Dan wouldn’t be on YouTube if it wasn’t for him.

And now, Dan was replying to his DM.

**Dan Howell:** The cactus is my new best friend. Lmao I’m not bothered by the fans they’re pretty awesome tbh (like you)

**Dan Howell:** Also I really did like your video

Phil stuffed his fist in his mouth, holding in a squeal. Dan Howell was directly replying to him, and he was getting _praise?_ This was not how Phil expected his day to go. He typed out a reply with a small grin at his lips.

**Phil Lester:** I’m glad you’re not bothered! They can be a bit overwhelming so I’m glad you’re ok. ^_^ Thanks, I had fun with the video. Not as good as your most recent one though

Dan’s reply was almost instant, and Phil couldn’t stop himself from grinning all through their conversation.

**Dan Howell:** Well true they’re a bit keen on us in particular aren’t they? And don’t tell me actual AmazingPhil has watched my stuff

**Phil Lester:** That’s one way of putting it! And of course I have, what do you take me for? Your Power Nap story had me laughing for weeks

**Dan Howell:** yay my awkwardness still getting me likes and laughs from strangers that’s just the best thing

**Dan Howell:** (srsly though that means a lot from you thanks <3)

**Phil Lester:** You are a special kind of awkward. It’s amazing (not as amazing as ME though *nudges* get it?) well, I’m flattered you appreciate my opinion so much

**Dan Howell:** stop that immediately. Are you kidding of course I do

**Phil Lester:** I will never stop and you can’t force me

**Dan Howell:** if you say so

A few minutes passed then, as Phil tried to think up an appropriate reply, typing and furiously deleting several phrases. He was managing to hold an actual conversation with _Dan Howell_ – this wasn’t the sort of opportunity he could afford to mess up.

But before Phil even had a chance to perfect a response, Dan was messaging him again.

**Dan Howell:** btw are you coming to the YT event next week?

**Phil Lester:** Yes, yes I am. Will I see you there?

**Dan Howell:** you just might

Phil’s stomach twisted. He and Dan had, of course, been to the same events before – you couldn’t be on YouTube for as long as the both of them had without ending up in the same room – but the closest they had ever been was a hurried glance from across the room. Dan had lifted a hand in an awkward half-wave, and Phil had been concentrating so hard on waving back that he’d walked into a table.

Not his finest moment.

Dan probably thought he was a clumsy idiot (he wasn’t far wrong), but from these messages, he actually seemed … keen? As if he _wanted_ to meet Phil?

Phil held the idea for a moment, let it shimmer inside his skull, and then firmly squashed it. Nonsense. No one as intelligent, successful, and articulate as Dan Howell would ever want anything to do with him, and Phil needed to remember that.

\---

The YouTube event was a crowded mass of creators all gathered together in the same room, so naturally, it was as noisy and insane as a boyband concert. Phil slunk into a quiet corner as fast as he could. He made cursory nods and greetings to the people that waved at him, smiled and chatted in a few vlogs, but otherwise retreated to his own quiet corner with a plateful of food and, occasionally, PJ.

“It’s insane, right?” PJ was grinning at him, his eyes shining.

“Tell me about it,” Phil murmured in response. He didn’t quite have PJ’s enthusiasm – Phil had been to too many events like this before. PJ, however, was still relatively new at being invited along, and so his excitement had yet to be replaced with tired cynicism.

“I can’t believe some of the people here,” PJ continued in Phil’s ear, his voice pitched above the volume of the room. “I saw actual pewdiepie earlier, can you believe it?”

“I can.” Phil had met pewdiepie several times before, but never had much to do with him – the core group of YouTubers were not a group he readily mixed with. He was a little too awkward, and a little too tall, and a little too out of place. Hence why Phil preferred to keep to himself at events like these. At least he had PJ this time.

Or, well, he _thought_ he did.

“Phil, _Phil_!” PJ grabbed Phil’s sleeve, hissing into his ear, “That’s _her_ – the actual owner of YouTube! And she’s coming this way!”

Phil followed his friend’s gaze, saw he was right, and instantly drew back. He was irritable and tired and frustrated with the gathering – certainly _not_ in a good frame of mind to meet his ultimate boss.

“I’m gonna talk to her,” PJ stepped forward, and span around when Phil didn’t follow. “Aren’t you coming?”

Phil shook his head, clutching onto his paper plate like a shield.

PJ’s expression softened. “I promise not to let her bite your head off.”

“Thanks, Peej, but really no.”

“Want me to stay with you, then?”

“No, no,” Phil hovered in his corner, dismissing PJ with a wave. “I’ll be safe here.”

PJ sent him one more slightly concerned glance, backing away slowly. “I’ll be back in five.”

Phil smiled gratefully. PJ was one of the few people who truly understood Phil’s need to shelter from crowds – even after his almost-decade on YouTube, he didn’t really like the public attention. He’d never done a panel or a stage-show, or anything that involved public speaking. He just didn’t have the gift.

Dan Howell, however, did. Dan went to every con, had a panel at every one, spoke loudly and articulately and always had a joke to hand. Phil often watched him at such cons, from a distance, never quite inhabiting the same space. He was not, and never could be, on a level with Dan Howell. No matter what their audiences seemed to think.

Phil had yet to see Dan Howell at this event. He’d craned his neck out from his corner a few times, and he’d kept an eye out at the talks earlier in the day, but no flash of black jacket and stupidly skinny jeans had caught his eye. Phil tried not to be disappointed. After all, Dan had only said he _might_ be there. Maybe he just hadn’t made it.

Phil was about to brave leaving his corner to find more food when an unknown tall silhouette was suddenly backing into the dark corner with him. Phil stumbled back to avoid an elbow to the face, emitting a startled squeak. _No one_ entered his space. Not _ever._

The other person, it seemed, was just as surprised, as they grunted and stumbled back until they were awkwardly leaning against the wall. “Oops! Sorry!! Is someone there?”

“Yes!” Phil squeaked indignantly, rubbing his side.

“Sorry, sorry! I just assumed this corner would be empty, and I was trying to escape and it seemed like the best hiding place—“

“It is the best hiding place,” Phil interrupted, squinting. He _knew_ that articulate, smooth voice. He’d recognise it anywhere. But surely he couldn’t have got that lucky?

Amazingly, it seemed his rude assailant seemed to be having the same thought, as he leaned closer in the dim corner and poked at Phil’s shoulder. “Wait. Are you – no – you can’t be—“

“Phil Lester,” Phil introduced, suddenly being overtaken by a wide grin. “And unless I’m completely mishearing, you sound like Dan Howell. AKA Danisnotonfire.”

“Don’t remind me of my stupid username, please.”

“I mean, I did always wonder where it came from.”

“A mistaken hang-on from my random phase,” Dan admitted. “I was twelve. Forgive me.”

Phil smiled sunnily at him, still hardly able to believe his luck. “Well, it hardly seems to have done badly for you.”

Dan gave a sharp laugh. “Coming from _actual AmazingPhil,_ that is a compliment I am never going to forget.”

Phil startled, his grin only growing wider. His brain was still having trouble processing that this was actually happening. Dan Howell was standing right in front of him, and _admiring_ him – _him,_ just Phil Lester. He’d never quite allowed himself to believe that Dan really did know who he was, despite hearing it for himself in Dan’s videos.

“I mean,” Phil continued when he found his voice again and realised he still hadn’t answered, “I’ll scrawl it all over your arm if you want, so you never have to forget.”

_Way to go, Phil._ Could he _get_ any creepier? Seriously. He needed to start thinking before he spoke, especially around people he actually _liked._

Luckily, Dan seemed to see the funny side, as he just chortled and added, “I mean, if I was in any way cool enough to get a tattoo, it probably would be one of your quotes.”

Phil’s brain physically stumbled over that confession.

“I’ve been a fan for ages,” Dan mumbled, taking a step back. “I don’t know if you were ever aware of that, though. Sorry.”

Phil rushed to correct him, hastily grabbing Dan’s arm and grinning at him. “I was, actually. And it’s fine.”

Dan’s voice broke a little as he answered. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen your Draw Your Life.”

“Fuck.” The swear fell easily from Dan’s lips, which led Phil to give a surprised laugh. “Sorry. I just, um, never thought you’d actually seen my stuff.”

“You kidding?” Phil released Dan and folded his arms, fixing Dan with a stern stare. “I’ve watched your videos for ages.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“…And?”

“They’re great!” Phi enthused, and was he imagining that tiny sigh of relief? “Honestly. You’re hilarious.”

“I’m glad you find my awkward fails so amusing,” Dan answered dryly.

Phil chuckled. “Hey, you think _you’re_ awkward? Which one of us has been assaulted by the Holy Mother?”

“True,” Dan acknowledged, and Phil could hear the grin in his voice. “Though tbh I’d have done the same in your situation.”

“You think?”

“Definitely. I’d probably have invited her in, which is worse than you inviting her back.”

Phil tried to hide his surprise at how much Dan knew. Just how closely _did_ he watch Phil’s videos? Instead, Phil leaned against the wall and surveyed Dan, as much as he could in the dim lighting of their corner, anyway. “I can almost believe that, you know? After your Power Nap video.”

Dan gave an exaggerated groan, passing a hand over his eyes. “ _Please_ don’t tell me you’ve watched that.”

“I’m so sorry to disappoint you this early in our acquaintance.”

“Oh my God, kill me now.”

“It’s ok,” Phil continued with a sly grin, “I think your Panic Alarm story was actually worse.”

“Are you trying to murder me?” Dan demanded.

Phil burst out laughing.

“Seriously,” Dan muttered, “Of all the videos for you to have seen, you picked _those_?”

“Not just those,” Phil was quick to reassure as soon as he’d stopped laughing.

“No?”

“Nope, by now I’ve seen pretty much everything on your channel, so.”

Dan spluttered.

Phil dug his fingernails into his sleeves, glowing inside. Having actual Dan Howell, the guy with so much more publicity and confidence than him, spluttering over something Phil said, was incredibly flattering. Phil felt the warmest he had in days.

“I’m still not over that, you know,” Dan finally managed to get out.

Phil hummed questioningly.

“You’re _actual_ AmazingPhil,” Dan enthused. “You know, the guy I religiously stalked throughout the whole of 2006 to 2009.”

“Only then?” Phil sounded mildly disappointed.

Dan scoffed, shoving Phil’s shoulder. Phil felt even warmer where his hand made contact. “Don’t search for attention, it really isn’t attractive.”

Phil snickered. “Our fans would shudder to hear you say that.”

Dan spluttered again.

“And for the record,” Phil added, “I’ve been watching you for almost as long.”

Dan’s spluttering intensified.

“I mean,” Phil hesitantly continued, “I didn’t really notice you until your name kept cropping up in my comments, after your Draw Your Life. But I watched from the start of your channel then, and I was hooked. You’re really talented.”

A moment of silence hung between them, in which Phil studied the floor, worrying that he’d revealed too much, and Dan struggled to get his scrambled thoughts together enough to reply.

“Thank you, Phil,” Dan finally answered, and Phil gave a happy little wriggle at the way his name sounded in Dan’s voice. “That really, honestly means a lot to me, coming from you.”

Phil smiled back, answering just as earnestly, “It’s my pleasure. You’re a wonderful guy, Dan. I’d love to know you better.”

In the dim lighting, Phil could see Dan’s expression brighten. He was about to speak when an announcement interrupted them, ringing out from the main gathering.

Dan sent him a sidelong glance. “Sounds like the meeting is starting up again.”

Phil made a face. “Unfortunately.”

“Not your scene?”

“ _God,_ no.” Phil huffed. “Why’d you think I was hiding in my corner?”

“Until I rudely interrupted you,” Dan chuckled. He turned to Phil, extending a hand with a warm smile. “Want to grab the last of the food and hide in the corridor with me?”

Phil grabbed his hand straight away. “Yes please.”

\---

That night sealed the beginning of Dan and Phil’s friendship.

They spent the entire gathering tucked away in a corridor, sharing snacks and stories from their childhoods, and miraculously, they got on extremely well. Phil hadn’t clicked like that with someone in years, and never so quickly. Their conversation hadn’t left him, either – as he went about his daily life, he would see something and think _I need to show Dan that_ or wonder _Dan might buy this if he were in the shop with me._ No one had ever inserted themselves into Phil’s life as suddenly and thoroughly as Dan did.

Their text conversations quickly took over the majority of space in Phil’s phone. They directly contacted each other on Twitter much more often, much to the admiration of their audience. Phil developed a habit of screenshotting the most extreme reactions and sending them to Dan, always enjoying the sarcastic, humorous responses Dan would send back.

But things really started escalating when the vlogs from the YouTube meeting started cropping up.

Phil hadn’t even _realised_ he and Dan were getting filmed, but there they were, curled up together in a corridor in the background of various different vlogs. Once again, Phil was slightly astonished by the commitment of his audience, who scoured through all the vlogs and found every tiny mention of them. Gifs and edits flooded the internet, always in the phan tag. Nearly everyone was questioning whether or not it was canon, amid much hopeful speculation that at least Dan and Phil seemed to be getting along.

And, well, Phil could hardly deny it. He and Dan had been standing rather unnecessarily close together in that corridor. He hadn’t even realised at the time, but they were pressed up close, touching all down their sides. They shared food, were caught laughing at each other, and several people commented on the way Dan was staring at him. Rather amusingly, Phil saw ‘Heart Eyes Howell’ begin to trend.

Phil debated for a while whether or not he should directly address the issue with Dan. But he figured they were close enough now for it to be ok, so he copied a few of the best screenshots and sent them off to Dan with the caption, _Seems you’ve been caught out, ‘Heart Eyes Howell’._

Rather predictably, the reply didn’t take long.

**Dan:** I seriously admire the stalker ability of our fans wow. When did that even happen?!?!

**Phil:** Ikr. It was in the corridor at the meeting. They like the way you’re staring at me ;)

**Dan:** well I mean they’re not wrong.

Phil stopped short, staring at that message. _What?_ Could that be implying what he thought it was implying?

Surely not.

Dan Howell was way out of Phil’s league. Phil knew this. He’d been aggressively telling himself this since he first stated watching Dan’s videos, and realised just how attractive and interesting and funny he was. _Way out of your league, Phil. Don’t even dream about going there, Phil._

(Of course, his treacherous heart had disobeyed and supplied him with several fantasies, but Dan didn’t need to know about that).

But now, the universe was presenting Phil with a chance, and he knew he’d regret it forever if he didn’t take a risk and go for it.

**Phil:** In that case would ‘Heart Eyes Howell’ consider coming to coffee with me?

The few minutes it took for Dan to reply were literal torture. Phil could do nothing but stare at his screen, refreshing the conversation every few seconds.

Eventually, _finally,_ a reply came through, and when he saw it, Phil didn’t even bother trying to hide his squeal.

**Dan:** Only if you promise it’s a date

\---

Phil was inexplicably nervous before their coffee date.

He had no reason to be. This was just _Dan._ In the short time that they’d been talking, Phil had grown closer to him than he’d ever been to anyone, which, when he thought about it, was almost worrying. It didn’t _feel_ worrying, though. In fact, it felt amazing. Phil couldn’t hold back a grin every time Dan texted him with a photo of a dog he saw in the street, or a sarcastic comment about how early mornings were invented by the devil and shouldn’t be allowed to exist. Phil couldn’t exactly remember how he’d functioned without these daily insights into Dan’s life before. Dan had just, firmly and determinedly, become a foundation in Phil’s life.

Which was perhaps why Phil was so nervous. If this date went badly, he ran the risk of losing Dan completely.

Phil didn’t even want to think about that.

He arrived ten minutes early and loitered outside, not wanting to go in and order without Dan by his side. It was raining a little, so Phil ducked just inside the door and tried not to shiver too much as he waited.

Dan, as it turned out, was exactly six minutes late.

“Sorry, sorry,” he huffed as he approached, flicking wet hair out of his eyes. “Got delayed.”

Phil raised his brows. “By ‘delayed’ do you mean you were still in your pyjamas ten minutes ago?”

“Hey, hey!” Dan raised a hand, casting his eyes self-sacrificingly up to the sky. “Don’t judge me, Phil. I’ll stay in my PJs if I like.”

“You know, I wondered if you were putting on an act in your videos, but you really _are_ this lazy, hm?”

“I don’t know why I ever liked you, Lester.”

“Hey,” Phil berated, “I just stood in the rain for twenty minutes for you, at least be a bit grateful.”

Dan stared at him. “Twenty minutes?”

“Um.” Phil scrubbed the back of his head, staring down at the ground. “I was early.”

“You didn’t go in?”

“Wanted to wait for you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Dan smiled at him, but then leaned over and pushed open the door. “But let’s get inside, you look a bit like a drowned rat.”

Phil grimaced. He messed up his hair as he stepped inside, following Dan up to the counter. “Not a good look?”

“Luckily for you, you kind of fail at looking bad.”

Phil squinted. “I think there was a compliment in there somewhere, so thanks.”

Dan chuckled, but was interrupted by the barista coming over to serve them. He had his wallet out before Phil could object, saying, “A caramel macchiato and…”

“And another one, please.” Phil obstinately pulled out some coins. “And I’m paying.”

Dan scowled at him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Phil huffed. “Go and sit down and I’ll be along in a minute.”

“I’m not just going to let you do that.”

“What makes you think _I_ would let _you_?”

Dan glared at him. “Because I’m asking?”

“Sorry, Howell. Go sit.”

Dan went eventually, amid much grumbling.

Phil collected their drinks with a weird mix of excitement and nerves jumping around in his stomach. He almost felt nauseous. But as soon as he was walking across the busy café floor, very nearly spilling their drinks over a young child who darted in front of his feet, he glanced at Dan (who already had his phone out, antisocial fool) and instantly felt calm. Dan exuded a quiet confidence, similar to Phil himself, but with Dan there was always a slightly sardonic edge. As if he viewed the world with an air of _I wonder how I’ll embarrass myself today?_

Phil kind of admired that.

He placed the drink down in front of Dan and settled into the seat opposite, smirking slightly when Dan jumped. “Already on your phone? If I was anyone else, I’d be offended.”

“Yes, well,” Dan pointed out, “If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t even be here, so. Moot point.”

Phil tried not to show just how much that phrase made him glow. “So you’re only out of the house because I asked?”

“Pretty much.” Dan shifted, glancing down at the table surface. Phil thought he looked a little out-of-place, in his luxurious black jacket and far-too-expensive jeans, his long limbs folded up awkwardly into a chair that looked too small.

“Well,” Phil added after a beat, “I wouldn’t ordinarily leave my house on a Saturday either, so I have you to thank for that, too.”

Dan looked up, sending him a small smile. The expression looked soft and gentle in the harsh indoor lighting. “I’m honoured. I got AmazingPhil to brave the outside world. That’s a dangerous place for you.”

Phil looked mildly affronted. “Excuse me?”

Dan snickered. “I mean, I _did_ wonder if you make up half the encounters you talk about.”

“I do not!” Phil folded his arms and narrowed his eyes, playfully glaring at Dan.

“What, so you’re telling me those are all real?”

“Absolutely 100%.”

“So a squirrel really did bite you?”

“It did!” Phil brandished the side of his hand at Dan. “Recently, too, when I was in Florida last month.”

“I know,” Dan chuckled, “I saw on your Twitter.”

Phil blinked. “Just how closely do you stalk me?”

Much to Phil’s amusement, the tips of Dan’s ears grew a little red. Dan’s hands tightened around his coffee mug and he took a long sip, in a rather adorably obvious delaying tactic.

Phil couldn’t help but smirk. “It’s ok if you’re a fanboy, you know.”

Dan nearly choked. His fingers trembled as he lowered his mug carefully back down to the table, determinedly avoiding Phil’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Dan, I was in your Draw Your Life.”

Dan huffed. “Yeah, as, like, inspiration!”

“I’m flattered.”

“But I was not a fanboy,” Dan spluttered, “No matter how many times I diligently pestered your Twitter.”

Phil blinked at him. “Did you really?”

“Yeah.” Dan let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. “Way back when, before I started. I don’t think you ever noticed, thankfully.”

“Is that why you were already following me?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dan nodded. “Been following you since early ’09, when I got Twitter. Used to pester you constantly, I’d hang around to see when you tweeted, or always try to get first comment on your videos.”

“Oh, you’re one of _those._ ”

“Was,” Dan corrected quickly. “But I was a teenager, I can be forgiven.”

Phil blinked. He’d never actually checked Dan’s age, but it was a bit of a shock to find out he was that much younger.

“I nearly had a heart attack when you followed me the other day,” Dan confessed around his mug with a shy grin. “Flung right back to my eighteen-year-old self.”

Phil allowed himself a hesitant smile in return. “I’d have followed you ages ago if I’d known. I kept holding back because I didn’t want to freak you out – I mean, my audience has already been bothering you for years. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Dan waved him away. “Seriously, don’t worry. I’ve been in their shoes.”

“So it doesn’t bother you?”

“What, the shipping?” Dan pursed his lips, considering for a while before answering. “I mean – not really? I admit, the first few times I got a bit shocked – I didn’t really expect that response to my Draw My Life.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was in two minds about even mentioning how much you inspired me. Didn’t want to creep you out. But then I realised it was basically impossible to tell my YouTube origin story _without_ mentioning you, and, well, I figured you’d never find _out,_ so.”

“That backfired.” Phil snickered. “I found out within twenty-four hours.”

Dan’s eyes widened a little. “Seriously?”

Phil nodded. “Fans kept tagging me in it.”

Dan shook his head, but there was still a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Our audience, honestly. Diligent lot, aren’t they?”

“Tell me about it,” Phil answered dryly.

“Well, sorry, then.”

Phil quirked a brow.

“About the Draw My Life,” Dan quickly explained. “I honestly didn’t mean to freak you out, or come across as a giant creep, or anything.”

Phil stopped him with an upraised palm as he took a sip. “No bother. It was flattering.”

Dan smiled.

“Plus,” Phil added with a wicked smirk, “You’re not the only stalker I’ve ever had.”

Dan’s flustered reaction was almost instantaneous. “I did _not stalk_ …”

“I’m pretty sure there are screenshots against that.”

“Oh my God, it isn’t like I turned up in Rawtenstall.”

Phil’s smirk stretched. “The fact you even know I lived there is testament enough, I think.”

Dan grappled for an answer to that for far too long, and then settled on simply taking another long draft of his coffee.

Phil sat back with a satisfied little laugh. Any remaining nerves had completely fled by now, leaving him relaxed and warm and – actually – having a really good time. Dan was just as sardonic as ever, but seeing him flustered like this was a new side. Phil was enjoying it a bit too much.

But maybe he should even the playing field a bit.

“It’s alright, you know,” Phil broke the silence suddenly, continuing on at Dan’s interested gaze. “You stalking me, I mean.”

Dan spluttered, but Phil held up a hand to silence him, adding, “I mean, I’m just as bad, really.”

Both of Dan’s brows shot up.

“I know you grew up in Wokingham,” Phil explained a little sheepishly. “And you moved to London – three years ago now? Around the same time as me.”

Dan gave a slow nod.

“And you’ve been talking to the BBC for a while, and you filmed that documentary with them a few months ago – it was really good, by the way, I did not know that much about gaming tournaments before.”

“You watched it?” Dan sounded a little breathless.

Phil nodded, his tone warm. “For the memes, if nothing else.”

Dan glared at him.

Phil snickered, wrapping his hands back around his mug. “Anyway. Enough embarrassing myself. My point here is that I’m just as much of a stalker as you, so there’s no need for your trademark awkwardness.”

“…Huh.” Dan sounded a little awed. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Phil shook his head. “I don’t know why, honestly. You have almost twice as many subscribers as me.”

“A fact I try to rectify daily,” Dan answered wryly. “I promo you a lot –“

“I know.”

“— _Of course you do_ , and honestly, most of my subscribers just follow me for my accent, so.”

Phil grinned at him. “Sounding like Winnie the Pooh had its upsides in the end, then.”

Dan snickered. “Apparently so. I’d prefer your northern drawl, though.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s hear you attempt it, then.”

Dan shuddered. “That would just be offensive to everyone involved, Phil.”

“Are you backing down from a challenge, Howell?”

Dan’s eyes grew sharp, and Phil knew he’d won. Thus began an accent battle, in which Phil laughed so hard he had to double over at Dan’s attempt at sounding Scottish, and when he in return attempted to sound like the Queen, Dan whacked his arm with repeated squeals to stop immediately before he called the police.

Hours flew past without them noticing. Their drinks disappeared, and were replaced, and then disappeared again, and still Dan and Phil sat opposite each other, swapping stories about anything and everything. Phil learned how nervous Dan was the first time he ever uploaded a video, about when he had to take a small break from uploading when he went through The Crisis at university that eventually led to him dropping out. Phil gave Dan’s hand a reassuring pat and told him he wished he could have been there, which led to Dan playing with Phil’s fingers and quietly reassuring him that, in a way, he had.

“I watched you every day,” Dan confessed quietly. “When I didn’t know what to think, or where I was going – I watched your videos, and they’re just so calming? Like, your voice, and your crazy stories, and your smile – I couldn’t be sad when I knew that you existed in the same world as me.”

Phil couldn’t speak for a minute, he was so touched.

“You did the same for me,” Phil found himself saying, glancing down. “Watching your videos – they remind me it’s ok to be awkward, you know? And your messages – I swear, whenever you end with your typical life lessons, you remind me that the world isn’t such a terrible place.”

Dan’s answering smile was brilliant. They were both leaning towards each other now, neither of them noticing as the distance between them suddenly disappeared. “You make me proud to live in this world, Phil Lester.”

Phil glowed, his eyes shining. His fingers were properly wrapped around Dan’s now, and he felt a shiver run down his spine as Dan’s deep, melodic brown eyes danced close to his face. The distance between them had all but disappeared.

Dan’s eyes flickered down, and Phil followed their direction, subconsciously licking his lips. He hesitantly moved his free hand to brush a stray strand of hair out of Dan’s eyes, making Dan look back up at him, and Phil was hit by his incredible warmth again.

“Can I kiss you?” Phil asked breathlessly.

Dan’s eyes widened just a tiny bit, but then he was nodding and moving closer before Phil had any time to reconsider.

The kiss was slow and gentle and shy, but it was wonderful. They parted after a few seconds, but then Dan’s hand came up to cup Phil’s face and he was leaning in again, experimenting, his lips lightly exploring Phil’s cheek until they were kissing again.

Phil melted into him, and he felt rather than saw Dan smiling.

They broke apart a few minutes later, and Phil gave a quick, darting glance around the coffee shop, relieved when no one was looking their way. Dan’s fingers were still laced with his, so Phil gently swiped his thumb against Dan’s skin and glanced at him, smiling.

Dan’s answering grin was the brightest thing in the room.

They stayed in the café for another hour – long enough to devour another drink – and still didn’t want to part ways. They ended up finding their way to Phil’s apartment, under the guise of needing to pit their Mario Kart skills against each other. In reality, though, they only lasted two races before Dan jumped on Phil again and they curled up together on the sofa, talking and laughing and kissing in equal measure.

And when Phil woke up the next morning to find Dan next to him in his flat, he never wanted to wake up to anything different.


End file.
